The stars in the sky, how much they used to mean
to a little guy with big thoughts and even bigger dreams
who would fly high with thin socks and even lighter seams
and would just try to shoot hoops and cheer for smaller teams.
The moonbeams forayed into the depths of his heart
when his mind thought of pure things, like motion in art.
The rays of light shined upon a world undiscovered
as he gazed into the solitary world of another.
He lost himself, his identity, in the eyes of a friend
who brought him to the last chapter of a story, the end.
And so he moved on, grieving the loss of one ‘mongst many
The world’s a pretty dime, but he would have kept this little penny.
Then his mind changed, his surroundings just shifted
and alone he drifted, till one day he sifted
through the contents of his body, of his soul, of his spirit,
blowing through it all like sand, with no one else near it.
With slow acknowledgement, he found what knowledge meant,
discovering the purpose for which he was really sent:
A warfare raged on, and only he was well-prepared
to take the hard tasks on and quite well he did fare.
But somewhere along the way, he lost the living romance
The beauty of the moment, the seconds in a slow dance.
It all faded as his heart became silent on guard,
standing vigil, wary of the tales from many drunken bards.
A history of mystery, to himself he mainly kept
dwelling on a past mistake for which he would have wept.
But this bright soul, how dull did it actually become?
It did not even shimmer in the brightness of the sun.
With a heavy sigh, he pushed his fatal mistake away
staring at the mountains, through which he’d live his day.
Tumultuous at times, and rocky through and through
He tried to pray each moment, asking God what he should do.
He felt like losing hope, a thing which bears feathers
he felt like giving up, despite the storms that he did weather.
Yet in the depths of depths, the dreaded mire of gloom
The Master of his life did closely to him loom.
The Son shined down, and his life was made bright
giving him the strength to stand and persevere through the fight.
He gave him a love, and knew when to take away
before a mere human did his whole soul and spirit sway.
On that day, his favorite color became gray
A mix of pure white and the black in which he’d stay.
A metal with no luster, yet regaining a quick edge
As he retreated from the beck’ning grip of death’s ledge.
Giving praise to God, for it was all he felt
as he cried above and on solid earth he knelt.
Another thought on the topic, then no more
for the poor human being was once again poor.
The subtle flexing of his craft refreshed his mind anew
as his fingers spun the rhythms and the pictures his mind drew.
He remembered the color of life, vivid and vivacious
learning of the little things, like staying tenacious.
A spirit of fear was not granted, but one of courage given
providing him the motivation that kept him fully driven.
Pressing to the end, with his God fully in sight
Leading through the bleary night into the warming light.
He forgot what was wrong and left for what was right,
Living blind no more, for he regained his sight.
Forgetting the future, forgiving the past;
the young man found his peace at last.